A Little Family Research Along the Way...

     Early in my trip to Burbank, I decided to take a little family history detour up to Poplar Creek, Mississippi, the birthplace of my great-grandmother Florence Lucinda Martin Daniel.

     I had been working hard on my genealogy but simply could not find the information or records I needed to tie her family completely together. It was truly a frustrating bit of research and I was hoping that by visiting her actual place of birth I might be able to find out something…anything that would clear up my confusion.

     I pulled into “town” which was only a ramshackle old general store down at the bottom of a hill. I mean this was a really small place. No other structure around, no people, just a very warm and quiet May afternoon.

     There was a payphone hanging on the wall of the general store with a phonebook hanging from it connected by a small silver chain. (Some of you reading this may wonder what in the world I’m talking about, right?) Back in the “olden times” (this was 1972 remember…cellphones had yet to be invented) there used to be telephones hanging or mounted just about everywhere into which you could deposit some coins to make a call. Before you did that, you could look up the number in the phone book – which listed everyone in the area alphabetically by name. Amazing, yes?

     I looked up the name “Winfrey” thinking, hoping actually, that there just may be a decedent or two still living in the area. Sure ‘nuff – there was a listing for a Nathaniel Winfrey. I deposited a quarter, waited for the dial tone, dialed the number, and almost right away, Nathaniel answered the call.

     My opening line to him was, “I think I may be related to you and would love to talk to you about your family.” He said he would love to do that, asked me where I was, and said he would be down to the general store in about a half-hour.

     While I was on the phone, I looked up the hill and could see what appeared to be some gravestones behind a fence. Maybe a church cemetery, right? And, just maybe, I could find old Absalom and his wife Sarah Lucinda buried up there.

     I had some time before Nathaniel arrived, so I drove up to the church, got out of the car and walked over to the gate to the graveyard. It was an absolutely beautiful late spring day. I could hear several birds singing in the trees that surrounded the church yard. It was a very peaceful setting.

     As soon as I walked past the gate, I had the astounding sensation that felt like someone had grabbed me by my shirt front and was pulling me toward the very back of the cemetery. I mean literally pulling me in a specific direction. It was an amazing feeling, very real but also non-threatening. I felt quite calm and very willing to be led, not knowing where I was going.

     Once I got to the back row, I was astounded to be looking at several headstones that bore the name “Davison” – Sarah Lucinda’s maiden name. This had to be her family area of the grounds. I immediately sat down, resting my back against a blackened headstone that looked something like the tablets that Moses brought down from Mt. Sinai. A larger than normal headstone with two arched tops and which was large enough to act as a backrest for me as I feverishly wrote down all of the inscriptions on all those “Davison” stones.

     A quick glance at my watch told me it was time to head back down the hill to meet Nathaniel. When he arrived in his red pickup truck, and shouted at me from the window, “are you the guy who called me?” – I was tongue-tied for a moment and really didn’t know quite what to say to him. He was a black man.

     Remember that my opening words to him on the phone were “I think I may be related to you,” so now learning that he was a man of a different race than mine tossed my mind into a bit of a spin. I really didn’t know what to think.

     I told him why I was there, that I was trying to locate my ancestor, Absalom Farrar Winfrey and could he help me do that. He told me he didn’t know much about the family, but he guessed that his elderly uncle, who still lived out on the old Winfrey place might be able to help me.

     Those words shook me like a giant thunder clap. THE OLD WINFREY PLACE. Did I find what I had come for? Had I located my great-grandmother’s actual birthplace? I could feel my heart pumping and could not wait to drive out there…wherever out there was.

     I thanked Nathaniel for his time and he gave me directions. Off I went with my chest pounding. My goodness, this family research is fun stuff, yes?

     After about a two-mile drive into this beautiful Mississippi wilderness, I turned into a dirt road and saw a wonderfully large field of white cotton. 

     And up on the hill just as Nathaniel had described, there was a small silver metal Quonset hut, with an old man in a hospital bed out on the front porch.

     I introduced myself to this wonderful old gentleman, who was being watched over by a lovely young black woman who I was about to learn, was his granddaughter. After I told him why I was there, he pointed down to one edge of the cotton field and asked if I could see the outline of a brick wall that appeared to be the remains of a house foundation.

     "That, dear sir, is the home in which your great-grandmother was born. That is the main house of what once was the Winfrey plantation. Ah,” he almost whispered, “I remember old Colonel Winfrey. He was a fine gentleman.”

     My heart starting beating again.

     And then, I learned something astounding that I had never known before.

     I told this wonderful old man the feelings I had when his nephew, Nathanial, drove up to me down at the general store. How I had a strange moment thinking about my heritage and where my family had really come from. He laughed at my obvious discomfort and gently said, “Didn’t you know that the emancipated slaves took the names of their former owners when they were set free?”

     Revelation! No, I had never known that. How had I ever missed knowing that bit of American history? Later, with a bit more research, I learned that when Absalom and Sarah arrived at Poplar Creek from Atlanta, the couple brought with them two young African-American slaves---Constantine and Violet---who married in 1859 and took the Winfrey name. Their heirs include successful men and women in business and the professions, such as Oprah Winfrey.

     I thanked him deeply and most appreciatively. He had given me an incredible gift of knowledge and had helped me tie some loose family ends together. I wanted to return to the church yard and finish copying the information from the headstones before I headed back out on my journey.

     I made my way to the back of the cemetery once again, only this time I made it back there on my own steam – there wasn’t anyone “pulling” me to go there.

I sat down with my back up against the same double headstone and started back copying the information. I started to reason out loud with myself, saying, “I wonder…if her mother and father and siblings are here, why are she and her husband not here too?” For some unknown reason, I turned to read the inscription on the headstone I was leaning up against. It had some black soot on it so it was hard to read. So, as I scraped off the black stuff, what was revealed underneath were the initials “A.F. Winfrey” on one side of the double tablet and “S.L. Winfrey” on the other side.

     I was actually SITTING ON THEIR GRAVE!

     I am firmly convinced that old Colonel Winfrey WANTED me to find him! I am just as convinced that something heavenly or heaven-sent, “pulled” me into that corner of the graveyard when I first arrived. He truly was anxious to be found. He, and whatever angels he had enlisted, helped me find him. I know beyond doubt that I was guided in every step in this marvelous discovery.

     Talk about your heart pounding! Wow!

     A few years later, I performed the temple ordinances for Absalom and Sarah and had them sealed together for all eternity along with their entire family. What an absolute thrill. I also had the feeling that he was right there with me in the Jordan River Temple when I did his family’s work.

     My goodness, what a joyful day that must have been for them! I know it was truly an amazing and wonderfully joyous day for me.